I
hope for nothing.I fear nothing.I am free. Kazantzakis,
Nikos. The Last Temptation of Christ. London: Faber and Faber,
1988. 518 pages. You
can respond to the author here
(responses may be posted)
The same inscription could have been placed on Jesus' tomb had they
buried him in Kazantzakis' The Last Temptation of Christ. Kazantzakis
draws a compelling image of Jesus as a human who struggles to find
his divine calling, and who in struggling finds the freedom to hope
for nothing and fear nothing. This is an image of the Human One by
which we cannot help but be inspired.
If you are accustomed to Jesus as he is portrayed in the Gospels,
Kazantzakis' Jesus will be shocking. He is a troubled young man, attacked
by pains that mimic bird's claws, nagged by his mother, and disappointed
in his father. But most striking is how really unsure he is of his
divine calling. In true human form, the main character's identity
is so ambiguous in the first chapters of the novel that he is referred
to only in generic terms such as the young man, the sleeper, or the
youth. He speaks of "a way", but is unsure of what way this
might be.
His struggle, and likewise ours, if self-awareness might allow us
to admit, is constant. "I am wrestling," Jesus tells Judas.
"With whom?" "I don't know
I'm wrestling."
The temptations with which Jesus wrestles throughout his life are
varied, but similar in their attempts to distract him from his calling.
Unable to ignore God's digging claws, Jesus leaves home to hide from
God in a desert monastery. On the way, the aroma of baking bread and
the sight of harvest vegetables remind him of the comforts of a domestic
life, a life which he often dreams of living with Mary Magdalene;
he hurries with even more purpose to evade these temptations. Instead
of a hiding place within the monastery, however, he finds a confessor
to whom he is able to admit not only his carnal temptations but also
his pity for the suffering of people.
In listening to the call of his heart, rather than the demons of his
fears, Jesus begins to emerge from the shell of this young, previously
generic man. His stirred heart overflows with love for the tortured
souls he sees in those around him. Jesus' public ministry begins when
he saves Magdalene from being stoned. His "clawing look"
stirs inner reflection in her attackers, destroying their certainty
that she is the only sinner among them.
From this point on, Jesus recognizes that God has conquered him. But
it isn't an unambiguous conquest. Just as the lost young man of the
earlier chapters is easy to identify with, so is this conquered, but
unsure Jesus. A potential candidate for Toastmasters, he struggles
to find the courage to speak in front of assembled groups. While Judas
is convinced of the need for militancy, Jesus' guiding image changes
from the heart, to the sword, to the cross. It is as if having said
yes to the initial call, Jesus walks into a new land where the paths
are no more clear, and fears no less alive. What has changed is that
his intention is more directed.
This pattern continues throughout the novel. Jesus continues to move
forward in faith in spite of his fears, even when he realizes that
the cross rather than military victory is in the forecast. When his
final and greatest temptation comes on the cross, we see not only
how strong the pull to lead a 'normal' life has been for Jesus, but
also how truly Jesus wants to serve God. Every step in his life is
a struggle to freedom, not freedom from struggle, but freedom in struggle.
I enjoyed reading about this ambiguous youth as an option to the Jesus
stories from the Gospels. More accustomed to a Jesus confident in
his role as God's son, I found it cathartic to read about the indecision
and avoidance of a young man to whom I could relate, first in his
identity crisis and then in his struggle to be courageous in the presence
of fear.
Although I don't feel God's clawing call to introduce a new paradigm
to the world, I have been called to bring a new perspective to my
world. As small as this task may seem, the temptation to slip on the
tarnished glasses of cynicism and depression is great for me. Having
recently drawn up a personal mission statement which sites "seeing
with eyes of hope" as my main goal, I am daily aware of how short
I fall. I am the generic one, struggling to choose the call to consciousness
- refusing to resort to the temptation of the habitual.
Kazantzakis wanted to offer "a supreme model to the man who struggles;
I wanted to show him that he must not fear pain, temptation or death
- because all three can be conquered, all three have already been
conquered." Almost as much as finding hope in Kazantzakis' Jesus,
Kazantzakis himself inspires me. I see in both the determination to
not give up, to believe in spite of fear, to struggle in spite of
pain.
Kazantzakis never intended on writing a historical biography of Jesus.
He wrote to describe the human struggle of existence and the hope
which breaks through, as modeled by Christ. The greatest gift of Kazantzakis'
Jesus is the model of a human being who, like us, struggles to follow
the call of God, and who in the struggle finds freedom.

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